Pet
by nomsnickers
Summary: The very same day Gandalf visits Bilbo for the first time seeking someone with whom he can share in an adventure, a brave clueless teenager falls headfirst into Bilbos life, seeking an adventure of her own.
1. pet

_**I predict a great rush of Hobbit fanfictions with the films, [and exceptionally attractive Kili and Fili] only a couple of months away, I thought I'd get in there and try a story before theres twenty zillion of the same ones - based on the books obviously :)  
I own Pet, JR TOLKIEN owns Middle Earth and all that comes with it :(**_

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_**Pet.**_

"and if one green bottle, should accidentally fall, there'll be fourty-four green bottles sitting on the wall."  
_**bang bang bang.**_

"Finally." A young girl murmured, pulling herself quickly up off the ground where she had slowly sunken down to, during the last ten minutes in which she'd been singing. The girl hurried to the door across the room turning the key and pulling it swiftly open.A tiny blob emerged immediately throwing itself into the girls outstretched arms, not waiting for an invitation.

"Aw, I'm sorry Rich. I shouldn't have said we should go up there, I should have thought of something else..." The girls face crumpled in regret as the tiny shivering blob raised his head pulling away from her.

"I...I wasn't scared you know!" The boy, Rich started "it was just...really, really...cold up there. Really freezing you know? And dirty, and...did I mention how cold it was?"

The girl had a time keeping a straight face, which the boy noticed with a frown.  
"I wasn't scared Pet! Honestly. I just...didn't want to make you feel bad... for when you lose to me. How many bottles were left anyway?"  
The girl hesitated the smile falling from her face as she watched the little boy in front of her bite the edge of his lip nervously. He had picked this up from her; lip-biting. She would miss his lip biting so, so much. She would miss him so, so much. How could she let him go? All she could think of was how much he needed her to look after him.  
"Just four bottles left Richy" She lied easily, anything to light up his face.  
"Really?" His smile did not disappoint.  
"Really, my turn now I guess?" The girl hoped all her little brother could see was worry on her face. In all truthfulness, Petunia Clark (better known as Pet, to all but her stuck-in-her-ways Grandmother, Nana Clark) wasn't worried at all about what she was about to do. If she had been worried then she never, ever would have allowed her little Rich to do it, even if they had shaken hands on it. And deals didn't come much more serious than when sealed with a handshake.  
No, Pet wasn't worried at all about what she was about to do. She was just worried about getting the right numbers of bottles, she could not after all allow her brother to lose to her in a battle that tested their courage, nor could she lose so severely that the credibility of the challenge was questioned.

Perhaps further explanation is needed, -and here it is!  
Pet had found herself very worried lately, very worried indeed, and for good reason. Pet had spent the last nine years, since their mother had died looking after her baby brother, willingly of course. She couldn't imagine spending a single day without him at her side, let alone a week, a month, a year. And in a different house, in a different country.  
Although Richard and Petunia Clark were both very Clark-ish and similar physically and in temperament in every way possible, from their naturally curious but kind personalities, bright blue excitable eyes, to their curly mousy-brown hair (which they kept at very different lengths) there was one substantial difference between them both, namely: their fathers. Everyone had always thought it scandalous, that their mother had never married after having Pet, quite unfairly really, as Pet's mother had thought herself madly in love with her first childs father and was over joyed at the thought of starting a family together, he was however...not and scarpered days after hearing the _delightful _news. But when Old Nana Clarks daughter had gone and done it _again_ seven years later, well the local gossips were in their element.  
_Pregnant, again, this time with an Irish fellow I heard, runs in their family, got it from the fathers side mind you, Poor Mr Clarks relations! 'Aint no bad blood in Old Nana Clark...! You mark my words. I'll be keeping an eye on little Miss Petunia, when she's a wee bit older she'll find herself in as much mischief as her mother before her, you just watch and see!._.

Though times had changed some since Pet was born in late december of nineteen fifty one. It was now nineteen sixty nine, people were going into space, everyone who was anyone had a television, and the Beatles were set to take over the musical world, the world was moving forward...except in Green-Birch Hollow.  
Nearly nobody had televisions, and electricity was used scantily, only for fridges and such necessities. Forty percent of the population in Green-Birch Hollow were over Sixty and only Ten Percent were under the age of Eighteen. Unfortunately Pet and Richard both fell into this dwindling percentage, though Pet only had one year left before she was free.  
It may as well have been the middle ages in Green Birch Hollow. Yes, Green-Birch was a very primitive village, always the same. The same people got older, the same places stayed the same, It was a decidedly boring place for a Seventeen year old to grow up, let alone a Nine year old. Anyway, I've drifted off my story...yes. The Clarks had gone from one of the most respected (and boring) families in Green-Birch to social pariahs after word of the second-fatherless pregnancy had gotten out.  
Miss Clark died shortly after giving birth to her only son, and Old Nana Clark had raised her two grandchildren strictly and properly trying to stomp out any bad blood so they say, the only love either had received was from each other, which was just enough for them. Let the gossips gossip they use to say to each other.

Then this Mister Peacocks had come sailing in a month ago, claiming to be Richard Clarks father. He _was _Irish as it happened, Pet had often wondered how gossips got their accurate information, even with spying being excepted as common hobbies. Nana Clark had given in, without even giving the impression of resisting. Mister Peacocks had given Rich one last month in dreary little Green-Birch with his sister and grandmother before he swept him away across land and sea, probably for good.  
Rich had taken it surprisingly well, being a little boy eager for fatherly love and adventure he had quite forgotten how completely alone his elder sister would be for the next year.  
Pet had noticed her brothers behavior and resisted the urge to question him about it until the very last day they had to spend together.  
On the thirtieth of april, Pet had taken her little brother aside, and asked him very calmly if he would even miss her at all, keeping the betray and hurt out of her face ad voice not wanting to upset him and cause an argument in their last few hours together.  
Rich had done all the reassuring a nine year old could do, saying he was just being brave for her, and that she had to be brave now too. This quickly escalated into a playful quarrel over who was the bravest out of them both.  
They'd decided the best way to test their bravery very quickly, they needed something simple, yet terrifyingly effective. What could be more scary than their Nana Clarks haunted attic? Nana Clarks haunted attic, that they were forbidden from entering under any circumstances?

And so after Pet had sneakily acquired a spare set of house keys and unlocked the thick rusty padlock securing the door, Richard has slowly and reluctantly opened it and climbed twelve steps into the dark, creaky, sinister attic, lasting an impressive fifty six rounds of ten glass Pet hadn't showed it she was starting to worry about him, she knew how afraid he was of the dark.  
With a final affectionate finger to the nose and a wink at her baby brother, Pet turned and entered the thick, moldy wooden door that lead up a flight of stairs to the forbidden attic room. Despite being raised to be honest and respect rules Pet often had adventurous urges that could not be contained, it was therefore no secret that this was not her first trip into the upstairs attic, unlike Rich. Pet had been in the attic once before many, many years ago before Rich had even been born, before the padlock. Pet remembered little more than the gentle beating she had received over her grandmothers knee afterwards, for not doing as she was told.  
If Pet had remembered everything that had happened all them years ago, there's little doubt she would have made it further than the eleventh step.

Pet made it however, considerably further than the eleventh step into the attic, as memories of her trip ten years ago hovered around the edges of her thoughts struggling to resurface. Perhaps part of her remembered everything that had happened them many years ago, that might explain why she found herself unknowingly retracing the exact steps her seven year old self had taken on her first trip to the attic. Past the boxes of photographs, the long forgotten furniture, all the way to the ancient book case that stood proudly in front of the only window, and source of light that the attic provided.

Pet stood for a few minutes scanning the shelves of dust covered books in front of her curious, as she took a hesitant step forwards a particular book caught her eye. A book that sat on none of the shelves among the others, this book lay half hidden on the very top of the book case only just within reach. Pet scrambled on her tip toes, fingertips closing around the bottom of the book, pulling it down towards her for a closer inspection.

The attic as far as Pet knew had not been entered for at the very least a year by her grandmother who had been searching ofr space to store dolls and toys that Pet had long since grown out of. Every item in this attic had thick layers of dust and cobwebs covering them, some items were in such bad condition they were indistinguishable. The condition of the book intrigued Pet immensely. It was in perfect condition, as if someone had wiped it down with a cloth that very morning, it was a pale gold color bearing many markings and strange letters that Pet recognized as neither English nor Latin.

Pet ran a finger down the spine of the unusual book examining the strange symbols, as her finger touched the foreign letters they started to glow and change. The letters turned and moved, disappeared and reappeared, twisting and morphing until Pet could decipher two large bold words, glowing brighter than any other words or letters before her.

"Middle Earth..." Pet breathed in wonder fingers clasping tightly against the side of the book, instinctively. As soon as her grip tightened around the edges of the book, she couldn't bring herself to loosen her grasp- literally. The book seemed as though it were glued to her very fingers. After a few seconds the book slowly stared to flash, to glow obviously. Heat rushed through Pets hands, still wound firmly around the books corners, against her will.

The heat overwhelmed Pet, she longed to call out, to scream for help but her mouth stayed firmly shut, the heat spread through her arms, her legs, her head; burning. She shut her eyes tightly trying again, to unsuccessfully detach herself from the accursed book. The golden book burned hotter still, and started to vibrate, as the book vibrated she too vibrated, her knees shook, her teeth clattered. And at last Pet could take no more, of the heat, the vibrating or the mere impossibility of it all. She felt the pain lessen, everything seemed to go dimmer and drifted farther away, until she willingly allowed the blackness envelop her.


	2. an unexpected guest,

_**Thanks for the reviews! They mean alot, sorry if my writing is a bit jumpy, I'm use to writing from one POV, but am trying to keep it as Hobbit-like as possible! There'll be dwarves in the next **_**_chapter which'll be up within the next week :)  
Ps I like reviews, like alot. When I get the little review email I squeal inside_**

**_I don't own Bilbo, Gandalf or the Shire, but I'll love them like my own. _**

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_**Pet; An Unexpected Guest.**_

It was an exceptionally beautiful morning, even for Hobbiton. The sun shone down, warming the faces and raising the spirits of all sorts of beings who chose to venture outside that day, whether for a picnic or a gentle stroll, or just continuing about their business as they would any other day, the sun cared little smiling down at the word below it. It was amazed whenever it cast its gaze down upon many parts of Middle Earth by how much it had changed in the ages that had followed its creation. Beings had come and gone, wars had been won and lost, and little to nothing had remained exactly the same as it had all them years ago.

The sun enjoyed looking down on the north-west areas of middle earth, The Shire was one of its favorite places, it spent many long summer days watching the funny little hobbits, they had come into the world fairly recently compared to other species; men, elves, dwarves, and differed greatly from them -and not just in size, though the sun found their appearance delightful, from their hairy foot hair to their round bellies and elf like ears. After all these thousands of years of watching the world little surprised the sun, for the sun believed it had seen all that could be seen, and what it had not witnessed the moon surely had while the sun rested at night, and would of course have told the sun all about it before dawn had broken. The sun could not have been more wrong, and had it been paying less attention to flustered sweaty hobbits it might have noticed an unusual occurrence in the vast collection of trees commonly known as Bindbole wood, east to Shire.

The sun had an excuse I suppose for not noticing the sudden appearance of a girl that did not belong in Middle Earth, in the day or night, whether north east south or west. Not only was this girls arrival completely unexpected and impossible, but the Shire had a visitor that had not come to these parts in the day time for several tens of years. The sun and moon had been waiting many weeks for Gandalf to arrive in the Shire, for where Gandalf went excitement and adventure followed, and the sun and moon loved both of these things.

And so the sun watched Gandalf -unbeknownst to him, drive his cart to the home of one of Old Tooks' descendants. A respectable sort of hobbit, he was a Baggins after all in name at least and that held with it some expectations. Gandalf encountered said Baggins; Bilbo Baggins, standing outside his Hobbit Hole, Bag End that is smoking a pipe, with a full stomach enjoying the view that surrounded him. Though the encounter was brief and seemingly unimportant, much of the fate of Middle Earth would unravel from the few minutes Gandalf and dear Old Bilbo Baggins sat talking outside Bag End, one in a cart laden with unusual belongings, the other on a stool outside his front door blissfully content with his settled life.

The phrase 'Good Morning' was used in excess as Gandalf and Bilbo introduced each other, Bilbo became more uncomfortable with every word the mysterious Wizard spoke to him mostly with talk of Adventures that he should like to send Bilbo on. Though Bilbo had fond childhood memories stirred by the name Gandalf and Hobbits are polite of course, I doubt you would find a more courteous host than a comfortable Hobbit between Hobbiton and Rivendell, Bilbo found himself eager to leave Gandalfs company whilst not wanting to appear rude. He invited The Wizard to tea the next day in a flustered attempt to excuse himself from their unusual meeting before scuttling off back into his Hobbit Hole, leaving Gandalf chuckling just outside his front gate. Before leaving, Gandalf strode forward etching a strange symbol into Bag Ends beautiful green door with his brown staff, he turned on his heels, dashing off once more to add fine details to well arranged journeys and plans he had to come. Less than a mile away from Bag End, exactly as Bilbo was blowing the days first smoke rings in front of Gandalf the Grey, Pet woke up.

To say she was bemused would be an understatement, Pet was so confused and alarmed she could barely comprehend her surroundings. Pet was no longer stood in the attic above her grandmothers house, but was sat propped against a tree in an unfamiliar woods with the small golden book grasped tightly in her hands.

She dropped the book promptly after realizing she was still holding it at all. She examined her burnt hands closely, one had only small lines from the side of the pages of the book, the other -the hand that had been pressed into the spine- had the same strange symbols burnt and blistered into her hand, that Pet had seen on the book in the attic before it had glowed and burnt her.

Pet wondered many things as she sat leaning against the tree. She felt as though she had been asleep for a very long time, yet she still felt tired as though she hadn't rested at all, and hungry and thirsty. Once she had picked up the courage to touch the book again, she opened it and found she didn't understand any words written inside either. They were all strange symbols, spaced out as though they were words written in a funny language in a deep bold red ink. Pet was puzzled by the book and had never seen anything quite like it before to compare it with, although it was quite a small book and fairly thin, it weighed heavily in her hands, much heavier than it ought to have.

After much thinking and dawdling Pet decided it was no good to sit around and wait for something to happen, she though it might be nice to make something happen herself rather than stay where she rested pondering over the book, where she was and how she came to be there.

She stood, closed her eyes and spun in a circle until stopping suddenly, opening her eyes again and setting off in the direction she was facing. Not perhaps the wisest of ways to choose a direction to take, but with no paths or obvious footsteps to follow Pet thought it as good a was to decide a direction as any. As luck would have it Pet started walking in the direction of the Shire and the first house she would come across before evening would be Bag End, if she crossed the fields and hills and stayed on course. Had Pet turned in any other direction it would have been several days before she found anything other than trees.

She walked swiftly all day, stopping little and encountering no one but a field of ponies. She hoped often that she wasn't trespassing unintentionally, she had heard stories of people getting shot or mauled for trespassing and could think of nothing else until she upped her pace.

The sun had just set as Pet reached the field next to Bag End, she wouldn't have thought anything of the many hills and now clear path that lead to what was the Shire, not with the sun hidden away and the moon not yet risen. Indeed she might have changed course and missed Bag End all together had Bilbo not decided he'd quite like to stay up late that night and clean the immaculate silverware he had inherited from his mother, Belladonna Baggins, nee Took. A small light shone out from Bag End from a candle next to a window as Bilbo sat at a table in one of the smaller rooms in his luxurious hole.

And so that is how Bilbo, who was just about ready for bed heard his door bell ringing at eleven o'clock that night. His heart dropped some as the mornings events came rushing back to him, he thought of Gandalf and of adventures and looked around his lovely home fondly. Despite contemplating ignoring the door-bell and pretending to be asleep, Bilbo reluctantly made his way to the door and opened it shocked.

Pet and Bilbo were quite as shocked as each other, after all Bilbo had never seen one of the Big People, other than Gandalf before, just as Pet had never encountered a Hobbit. They both stood there still before Pet regained herself and smiled down friendly at the little person in front of her.

"I'm sorry to bother you so lately sir, I hope you don't mind, but I saw a light on in your window and thought perhaps someone might still be awake."

"No bother, no bother! Bilbo Baggins at your service Miss..." Bilbo trailed off bowing lowly, flustered. He didn't want to seem rude after the long pause at his front door, he was shocked and wondered still, but was relieved not to find Gandalf waiting outside his door.

"It's nice to meet you Mr Baggins, My name is Pet...well Petunia...but Pet...Clark that is"

After a long pause Bilbo ushered Pet inside. Never in his fifty years had anything like this happened. A girl, still a child clearly knocking on his front door in the dead of night. I'd bet my red silk handkerchief that Wizard is behind this, Bilbo thought wildly. After He had motioned her to a comfortable -but still much too small- arm chair, served tea and cakes (despite the late hour, cakes and tea were among commodities that were always offered as a politeness) he sat and joined her bemused. After a long and awkward silence in which neither knew quite how to break Bilbo, now tired and thoroughly confused burst out suddenly "I suppose Gandalf sent you did he? Well, let me stop you before I waste any of your time, we'll be wanting no adventures around here in Hobbiton. Though you may find more accommodating Hobbits in Breeland, queer folk they are mind you."

Pet was startled by Bilbo's sudden outburst, she had not broken the silence for so long out of fear. Since ringing the little mans door bell she had thought long and decided many things. Firstly: much of the world had shrunk, the people the furniture, but not the trees. She could not have grown or her clothes wouldn't fit. Secondly she was quite sure that she was no longer anywhere near Green Birch Hollow or her grandmothers house, she was quite sure she was no longer in the twentieth century even, she saw no hint of power lines outside nor anything electrical at all in the mans house. She also noticed Mr Baggins had very, _very _hairy feet and spoke properly with a strange accent and many strange words. This is why she too decided to remain as polite and proper as possible.

"Hobbits sir? I'm sure I don't know what you mean. I myself am very fond of adventures, though I think I may have stumbled into one myself already unawares and should quite like to go home soon, before my brother goes away at least, if he hasn't left already..." Pet trailed off, she didn't dare hope that Rich would be allowed to stay just because Pet had gone awol. Pet was in fact the only thing that had kept her brother in Green Birch for so long.

Another long silence fell and it was near midnight when finally Pet decided to try again.

"Thank you for the tea and cakes Mr Baggins, that was very kind of you but I'm afraid I didn't ring your door to eat your food and drink your drink. I'm very lost sir, I...hope it wouldn't be rude of me to ask what you are I suppose? Where we are?..What year it is? It's all very confusing..."

Bilbo looked down at the girl and felt suddenly very guilty that he had snapped. It was quite obvious Gandalf would not send a little girl out alone at night. She looked very frightened and out of place in his comfy arm chair, her blue eyes looked teary as she let her brown hair fall to hide her face. He had little experience with children, and so decided it was best to talk to her as nicely as he could, though stressed he was.

"I'm sorry for my rudeness a moment ago. We are in the Shire my dear, and by Shire reckoning it is the year thirteen forty one. And I am a Hobbit. Bilbo son of Bungo at your service and your families... I hope you don't mind me saying but you do look rather lost, perhaps we ought have more tea and cake! Then you can tell your story before bed, I don't have a room to accommodate the Big Folk I'm afraid but I'm sure we can manage something in one of the old back bedrooms."

"You're much too kind, I don't know where to start I'm afraid Mr Baggins, I doubt you would believe my story if I told you regardless..." Pet trailed off, placing the book from her lap on the table in front of her. Bilbo spared a glance at the book which was beautiful before smiling up at the girl in front of him once more.

"The begging is always a good place to start, I should imagine Miss Clark."

"Most call me Pet." Pet took a deep breath before gushing out everything that seemed remotely important to the little hobbit in front of her, and much that was clearly irrelevant. From her brother, to the attic, to the book, to the woods, to the shire. It was near two o'clock in the morning before Bilbo suggested it was long since time for bed. He had explained much himself of the Shire and had promised to do all he could to find Pets home assuring her, she was welcome in Bag End as long as she cared to be there.

Pet went to sleep in a dinky little bedroom with a few mattresses pushed together almost immediately, Bilbo however returned to his arm chair in the front room, eyes intent on the golden book that rested on his table, thinking long and hard, wondering what tomorrow would bring.


End file.
